A Summertime Adventure
by amphritie
Summary: Takes place before the adventures of The Golden Compass. Lyra and Roger go down to the river for a swim, but what they find will become a an awfully big adventure. A sequel will be up eventually.
1. Chapter 1

Lyra threw another stone at the pigeons, huddled together like old women on the the rooftop. Used to her habitual abuse, they hardly stirred except to flap a wing wearily in vague protest.

The girl sighed. The truth was, she was bored. It was a bright, hot summer day, but Roger was stuck in the kitchen washing pots again, and she hadn't anyone to run through the lower streets of Oxford with, or to make mischief in the catacombs of Jordan College. A mouse Pantalaimon crawled over her shoulder, and she absently reached up to stroke him.

"If you're so bored, why don't you go bother the gyptians?" he said, his whiskers tickling her ear.

"Aw, Pan, you know Ma Costa chased me off that last time," she said moodily, sitting down on the edge of the roof, her browned legs swinging off into space. "I wish Roger wasn't stuck down with that grump in the kitchen…" "Then break him out!" said Pan, who was nearly as bored as she was. "It's something to do-we could create a diversion and he could escape. He must be nearly done now, anyway. Might as well…" Lyra's face brightened at the prospect of such a daring maneuver, and she nearly leapt to her feet, teetering dangerously on the edge of the roof. "Yeah, Pan! You could turn into a leopard, and scare the servants' daemons awfully, and then Roger could slip out, and we'd be out by the river in no time!"

She ran to the low door and came into the upper reaches of the Library of Jordan College. She blinked in the sudden darkness, soft light of the Library contrasting with the strong heat and light of the warm rooftop. As her vision accustomed to the dim light, she saw that one of the Masters was gently snoring, his balding head pillowed on a book. _Guess the heat's even affecting the Masters_, she thought, being careful to tiptoe around him. She came quietly down the stairs, Pan as tabby cat padding silently by her side. She pushed open one of the double doors leading into the Library and wound her way through the corridors and stairwells til she came down to the kitchens.

Pan slinked into the shape of a ferret and draped himself around her neck, minding the place where she'd been sunburnt from their time out on the roof. Lyra flattened herself against the wall and Pan peered through the open doorway to try and spot Roger. Through the steamy, pot-clanging atmosphere, Pan saw him disappearing into the small bakery attached to the main kitchen. Secretly relieved that the Pan-becoming-a-leopard scheme wouldn't be needed-what a scolding she would get if they failed to escape!-Lyra darted to the door of the bakery that opened onto the hallway, and in an instant she was inside, scaring Roger nearly out of his wits.

"Lyra!" In a second her hand was over his mouth, and she was dragging him outside into the hall with his moth-daemon fluttering nervously behind. But the scare soon wore off, and in a moment they laughing, clattering down the stairs and out the side door, into the bright sunlight.

"Cook'll have my hide," said Roger, without really meaning it, for he was breathing deeply of the summer air, a relief after the oppressive steam of the kitchens. But Lyra grabbed by the wrist, and said impatiently, "C'mon, Roger! Never mind about the cook.-he never even eats his own food 'cause it's too awful! We're goin' to the river, to catch crocodiles."

Roger wasn't quite sure what a crocodile was, and he was even less sure that they lived in their river, but he ran after the long-legged Lyra anyway as they flashed in and out of crowds, weaving in between the stalls and buyers and sellers of Market Street. Lyra called hello to various ragged children along the way, and a couple of them joined Lyra and Roger, eager to escape the heat with a jump in the river. Finally, they reached the red clay riverbank, and Lyra was the first to dive in, Pan the cat becoming a silver, shimmering trout in mid-dive to swim around Lyra's legs as she surfaced, treading water. "Come in, all you! It's lovely." Roger jumped in, pleased with his loud splash, and his daemon shook into a water rat's body to play-chase Pan the trout underwater. Pinky and Sparrow, their two town friends who'd tagged along, shed their tattered shirts and jumped in too, the group becoming a laughing, splashing, tangle.

Presently Lyra dove and hid under the reeds, using a hollow one to breathe. She couldn't wait to see what they'd do when they couldn't find her. Pinky, a lanky, shaggy-haired boy of twelve, was the first to notice her disappearance.

"'Ey! Lyra's gone!" he yelled over to Roger, who was standing in the shallows and engaging in a friendly shouting match with some gyptian kids on the opposite bank. Pinky dropped Sparrow, who he'd had in a headlock, sputtering into the water. "Where's she gone, huh?" asked Roger, swimming over and flicking water at the oft-abused Sparrow, who was skinny and smaller than all of them. Sparrow shrugged. "I dunno," he said, picking up his soaking wet rat daemon and letting her climb onto his arm. "Pinky said he knew where she was," he added. "I never!" said Pinky indignantly. "I just said she'd gone." "Well, let's look then," said Roger, and he headed over to the reeds, where he knew she was fond of hiding.

He dove under, and the green reeds waved like fingers in the clear blue river currents. He reached out to part the reeds, and something that wasn't Lyra shot out, shooting past him in an explosion of bubbles all the way over in the direction of the deep hollows and pools of the opposite bank. The figure was instantly lost in the murky depths of the middle of the river, and Roger couldn't be sure what it had been. Maybe some kind of large fish...? He kicked and broke the surface, blinking the water out of his eyes, and he saw Lyra come up from another clump of reeds, spitting out part of a hollow one she must have used to breathe with. Her eyes were as wide as his, and he knew she'd seen it. "What was it, Lyra?" he asked, a little fearfully. She pushed wet blonde hair back off her forehead and spat again to gt rid of the reed's bitter taste. "I dunno," she said, thoughtfully. "Maybe it was a crocodile."


	2. Chapter 2

"I dunno, Lyra," Roger said, a little uncomfortably. He didn't like to contradict her, but what he'd seen hadn't looked like what a crocodile probably did. "Aren't crocodiles them big lizards, or somefing?"

"Yeah," said Lyra, glad to be talking about a subject on which she considered herself an authority. "They've got these big teeth, right, an' they eat kids, sometimes-"

"What eats kids?" asked Pinky, looking in the water nervously.

Sparrow had also left this gyptian kids, and swum over to stand waist-deep in the shallows with Lyra and Roger. Creeping up behind Pinky, he dove under water. Lyra and Roger laughed when Pinky squealed in fright when Sparrow grabbed his muddy foot and upended him into the water with a splash.

Sputtering, Pinky surfaced, having only barely been able to free himself from the stronger boy's grip. "Sparrers, that hurt, y'know! I thought you was one of them crocodillies…"

"Aw, you're just yellow-bellied, e'nt you," Sparrow teased. "Like them crocodiles would go after a skinny thing like you." Pinky stuck out his tongue in lieu of an answer, and the boys started to fight again. Roger was about to go join in the fun when the big bell of Jordan College boomed. It was four o'clock-strange how the time had passed. Lyra started suddenly, and her eyes grew big with fear. "Roger, we've must get back-My uncle's comin' to the College tonight-and I's supposed to get back by three!"

Roger started swimming back from the fight between Pinky and Sparrow that had since moved into the middle of the river. Lyra started wading in quickly as she could, but something caught her ankle. She thought it was a broken reed, or some such, but when she tugged it held firm. She looked down and saw a white hand holding on to her, with iridescent fins flowing from the wrist. The fingers were webbed, and a strange face looked up at Lyra from underwater. Dark hair floated around her, and looking back, Lyra thought she saw the shadow of a tail.

Lyra swallowed hard. This was no crocodile.

The whatever-it-was rose her head above water just enough to speak. Her voice was high and clear, and it seemed to echo.

"Help me," she said. And her hand loosed her grip on Lyra, and she was gone, back into the middle of the river. Lyra looked at Pan. He, too, was awestruck.

Roger splashed up next to his friend. "C'mon, Lyra, we'll surely be late coming back now. Why're you just standing there?" He waded to the bank and started climbing up.

Shaking her head to clear it of the strangeness, Lyra climbed up the bank. Her uncle Asriel was coming-she'd ask him what the creature was then. She thought she'd seen something like it once-in a drawing of what a young Scholar had called merfolk. As it was now, she had to get back before she was scolded too awfully by the maids.

Lyra and Roger hurried soaking wet through the streets, dodging through boys making late deliveries and fishwives crying the last of their wares. The late afternoon sun was making everything look golden when they arrived back at the College. Roger disappeared through a side door into the kitchens, where Lyra heard the cook bellowing. She winced. Hopefully, Roger wouldn't get in too much trouble.

Pan shifted into a black cat, the better to go unnoticed. Lyra didn't want any Scholars or servants making her stop to ask why she was wet and muddy. With him padding swiftly by her side, she darted into another side entrance and raced up three flights of stairs to her room.

After facing a very irate housekeeper and very cold bathwater, Lyra was forced into a blue dress, and her hair was brushed and plaited. She was left in the Visiting Room to wait for Lord Asriel.

Pan waved moth-wings nervously. "Are you sure he'll even know what we saw was?"

Lyra, lounging in a plush armchair that was supposed to be for visitors only, was surprised at such a silly question. "Of course he will, Pan. Uncle knows everything."

Lyra jumped to her feet and Pan fluttered to her shoulder when heard footsteps in the hall outside and the voice of the Steward.

"She is in here, Lord Asriel." The door handle turned and her uncle entered with Stelmaria, his snow leopard daemon, regal by his side.

"Hello, child," Asriel said, seating himself in the chair Lyra had so recently vacated. "Have you been obeying the Scholars?" His deep voice was nothing if not commanding.

"Yes," Lyra replied, a little sullenly. If only he wouldn't ask her the same dumb questions!

Amusement etched lines around Asriel's fierce eyes. "While I'm certain you are telling me the truth, I don't think playing on the rooftops, skipping meals, and never attending any lessons are at all what the Scholars mean for you to be doing."

Lyra's face reddened. "Yes, Uncle." Why did he have to choose the events of the last few weeks to pay attention to? She conveniently forgot that this the way she always behaved.

Asriel sighed, and for the first time Lyra noticed that he looked tired. "Be good, Lyra. The Scholars are very kind to put up with you this way." He reached into the pocket of his traveling coat and gave her eight gold coins and a bunch of silver ones, clinking into her hand like metallic rain. "Don't spend it all at once."

Lyra was delighted with the prospect of such wealth. "Yes, uncle." Asriel got up and made ready to leave, but Lyra remembered something.

"Uncle?" she said.

He paused at the door, turning to look at her. The girl rarely asked him anything. "What, Lyra?"

"D'you-Do you-know anything about merfolk? Are they real?" she asked, an odd curiosity present in her eyes.

"They are, and I do," replied her uncle. "Merpeople keep to themselves. Their songs are beautiful, even bewitching, and they have ways of knowing all that happens in water. But, since they worship their own gods, the Church views them as heretical."

"Heretics?" Lyra felt a cold touch of fear. Helping someone-something-that went against the Church?

"Precisely. It doesn't help that, physically speaking, they are half fish and half human. Some people even think that they are demons. But I have a train to catch to be in London by morning, so I suggest that if you want to know more, you look them up in the Library."

With this brusque farewell, he left. Stelmaria, who had been quiet throughout the entire conversation, nudged the door closed behind them. Lyra heard his authoritative footsteps disappear down the hallway, and then all was quiet.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day found Lyra and Pan doing something they really weren't supposed to be doing.

But, Pantalaimon thought with a sigh, how was that different from any other day?

He was crouched as a mouse on Lyra's shoulder, and they were trying to break into the Library.

"Drat it, Pan," Lyra said, wiping sweat off her forehead. It was only midmorning, but already the sun was fierce. "I don't think I can get this new lock undone." She struggled with a length of wire she was trying to use to open the new lock on the small window leading into the Library's most secluded corner. "I don't understand why them Scholars had to lock this one up-nobody uses it, anyway."

"Except you," Pan reminded her. "Maybe they noticed how you left it open from yesterday. We ought to try the window on the west side-we can get there from the chapel rooftop."

Lyra considered it. The chapel roof was risky-parts of it were steeply sloped, and the tiles always threatened to come loose. Still, though, it looked like their only chance. "All right, Pan."

She took off running across several flat rooftops, leaping short distances between them with a speed that made Pan turn into a sparrow and fly next to her. They reached the chapel in only a few minutes, and Lyra was hardly even out of breath.

Now comes the hard part, thought Lyra. Crouching on the edge of the rooftop closest to the chapel, she took a deep breath. The edge of the chapel roof was a good five feet away-a longer jump than usual. If she missed, it would be a long fall down to the hard stones of the alleyway below. Pan had already fluttered across, and sat on the head of one of the statues adorning the roof, waiting for her.

She jumped. The thrill of being in midair almost made her lose her purchase when she hit the rooftop. Her foot slipped when she landed and a couple of tiles skidded lose, but she grabbed a statue's head to steady herself.

Looking up, she grinned in triumph at Pan, who turned into a cat just so he could look disdainful.

She laughed. "C'mon, Pan. Stop looking smirky and let's get to the Library."

Thankfully, the west window proved to be unopened. Lyra levered it up, trying to make as little noise as possible. It squeaked anyway, and she caught her breath in fear, looking around inside to see if any Scholars came rushing at the noise. Nobody came, and Lyra stepped inside, closing the window behind her this time. Lyra picked Pan up, and he turned into a ferret to drape around her neck, leaving her hands free.

The cool air and musty smell of the Library was quite a change from the blistering heat of the rooftops. Lyra blinked and looked around, trying to accustom herself to the dim light.

They were on the third floor of the Library. The room was cylindrical, and it went up for several more floors. The floor Lyra was standing on extended around the room, but in the center there was empty space, so that she could look down and see the lower floors. She did so, and she didn't see any Scholars absorbed in books or otherwise occupied.

There didn't seem to be any Scholars on this level, either. Lyra went past the bank of windows from which she had entered and came to the beginning of the shelves of books that wrapped all around the walls.

"What are looking for, exactly?" Pan whispered.

"Anything about merfolk," she whispered back. It never hurt to be careful-some scholars had ears like bats, even when absorbed in study. She examined the books.

Some looked very old, and the languages on the bindings were ones she didn't know. Others looked newer, but all looked much older than she was. The subjects seemed to a dull lot-theology, anatomy, natural sciences, biology, mythical creatures-

Mythical! Hadn't that been what Uncle had said? Lyra pulled the book from the shelf, ignoring the minor dust storm that resulted. The tome was large, and heavy. She toted it over to the nearest table, and it thumped when she set it down. Looking quickly behind her, she was satisfied that no-one had heard the noise and sat down to study her newfound treasure.

It was covered in leather, and the title was in curly silver writing. "Nimere's Book of Creatures Magical and of the Myths of Man," Pan read out. "Sounds scholarly enough."

"Yeah," Lyra said, more curious now. "I bet it's got all sorts of things about mer-people in it." She pulled open the inside cover. There was no title page, or table of contents. It just started at the first mythical creature, and catalogued them all. The pages rustled as Lyra leafed through them. It didn't appear to be in any particular order. She went past pictures and descriptions of faeries, gnomes, night-ghasts…mer-people!

She turned the page to find an illustration of a strangely beautiful creature-a woman with a fish's tail. She had long, dark hair that streamed over the page, and her eyes were weirdly slit-pupiled, like a cat's. Her skin was white, and some deft artist had used crushed mica to give her scales a glittering appearance.

What made Lyra start, though, was that the mer-woman had fins growing out of her wrists and upper arms, and that her fingers were webbed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Pan!" Lyra's voice was breathlessly excited. "It _was_ a mer-woman!"

Pan flowed off her shoulder and sat as a mouse on the page so he could be closer to the words.

"Look, it says here that they have funny eyes so that they see in water even if it's dark," said Pan, his whiskers only an inch from the page. "And that they know magic…No wonder the Church thinks they're heretics."

Lyra looked concerned. "Pan, if we help her, we'll get in trouble, won't we?"

Pan considered. "We might, but I don't see how the Church, or the Consistorial Board or any of them would find out."

"Yeah," Lyra said. "But I dunno…"

Pan had gone back to studying the words next to the illustration of the mer-woman. "Lyra, maybe we should help her anyway. It says here they know dark magics, and they remember bad things done to them for ever. She'll know if we don't help her."

"Yeah, s'pose she gets angry with us," Lyra said, her eyes widening. "That could be just awful. But how are we supposed to see her again?"

Pantalaimon turned into a cat again and nosed the page until it turned. Settling back down, he read for a moment.

"Oh, look, Pan!" Lyra picked him and set him in her lap.

"How to call one of the Mer-folk," she read. "Cast a white stone into the water by the light of the full moon." She grinned, looking at Pan, who had jumped up on the table. "That's easy enough, but sounds like we're in for an adventure, all right. When's the next full moon?"

Pan tilted his head, looking at her. "Two days from now, I think."

"Right," Lyra said. She closed the book, wrinkling her nose at the dust cloud that resulted. Getting up, she carefully put the book back into its proper place. "Guess we've just got to wait 'til then. C'mon, Pan-let's go get Roger."

Lyra and Roger played in the streets with some of the College children, seeing who could steal an apple from an old man's fruit stall. Whenever he dozed off in the sun, one of the kids would sneak out, using some nearby crates as cover until they could reach up a grubby hand and snatch something. It was great fun, and it was even better when he woke with Pinky's hand perilously close to his nose. He shouted his rage, but the motley group had already disappeared down an alleyway, laughing and biting into their stolen treasures.

Strangely enough, Lyra didn't tell Roger about her plan to summon the mer-woman. She almost did, several times, but something always stopped her. Roger'd be too yellow anyway, she reasoned. It was really because she wanted it to be all her own, so that she could have a fantastic story to impress the town kids with later.

The next night, Lyra only pretended to go to bed. When the moon rose, round and regal in the sky, Lyra got up and pulled on her clothes before opening the door. She tiptoed down the stairs and stepped out a side door into the moonlight.


	5. Chapter 5

Lyra knew the rhythms of Oxford like her own heartbeat, and it was no difficult thing to sneak through the streets without being seen. She kept to the darkness of the alleyways, and Pan sat quiet in her pocket as a mouse.

They made it down to the riverbank undetected. Lyra was almost a little disappointed that no one had tried to catch her-it would have made the trip that much more exciting. But now, they really had to find a white stone.

Pan had turned into a cat to see in the dark. "I don't see any," he said, pawing at the sand. Lyra was a few feet away, looking at the water's edge. The moonlight was strong, scattering diamonds on the water and making everything look dipped in silver. A white rock ought to shine in this light, Lyra thought, frustrated. Stepping away, she pushed aside some reeds to look there.

"Here, Pan!" Her daemon came padding over, rubbing against her legs. She held up the stone she'd found, glimmering in the moonlight. It was about half the size of her palm. "Think this'll do it?"

"Ought to," said Pan, fluttering up into a sparrow to land on her shoulder. "Looks white enough."

"Right," Lyra said. Excitement rose in her, and she walked onto the dock and out to the edge. Taking a deep breath, she threw the stone. It hit the water with a small splash, ripples spreading out to catch the moonlight.

For a moment nothing happened. Lyra sat down on the edge of the dock, her feet dangling a mere foot from the water.

She almost screamed when the webbed hand reached up to touch her ankle. The mer-woman was there, her unearthly face even paler in the silvery light.

"Do not fear," the mer-woman said, letting her hand fall. "I mean you no harm."

"H-hullo," Lyra ventured, looking her over. The mer-woman's hair flowed dark and wet down her back to float in the water. Her strange eyes looked sad.

"I am wondering how you knew to call me," the mer-woman said. "Very few know that, now."

"Oh," Lyra said, wondering how she would tell this creature about sneaking into the College library. "I read it in a book. What's your name?"

The mer-woman answered, "In the language of my people it is different, but you may call me Nera."

"Nera," Lyra said slowly. Strange name. "I'm Lyra. What is it you need help with?"

Nera looked sad. She turned her head away for a moment, and Lyra saw that her ear was shaped like a fin, and pierced with ornaments of shell and bone. "E'nt that something," she whispered to Pan. Wide-eyed, he nodded agreement.

"I lost something precious to my people," Nera said. She turned to look at Lyra again. "A talisman of great value. It is meant to be worn by our princess-"

"You're led by a princess? Really?" Lyra interrupted. "That's something, e'ent it-d'you have a Church?"

The mer-woman looked puzzled. "No. We worship our gods at temples, and we have what you would call priestesses and priests but have no Church."

"I could get in awful trouble 'cause of you," Lyra said, reaching up to pet Pan. "I'm not s'posed to help hera..heretics. But I don't care about the stuffy old Church anyway." She sounded braver than she felt.

Nera smiled for the first time. "Thank you." Then she became serious again. "Lyra, the talisman is on a-what's the word? A gyptian boat. A fisherman brought it up in his net when I-when I became careless. Do you think you can get it from there?"

Lyra smiled. That was something she could do."Yeah, easy! Which boat?"


	6. Chapter 6

Three nights later, the moon was a sliver in the sky and Lyra was crouched on a dock, waiting for a boat to go by.

Nera the mer-woman was only a shimmer in the dark water below. Lyra swallowed hard. Unusually for her, she was nervous about this one. If they were caught, it could have serious repercussions.

Pan was curled as an ermine around her neck, and nudged his nose against her as if to lend her courage.

"It'll be all right," he whispered. The misty shape of the gyptian boat was slowly resolving itself as it came nearer. Lyra could hear rough gyptian voices raised in argument, and she hid in the shadows behind some crates. A couple of men tied the boat up at the dock, and she drew in a quick breath when one came within inches of her hiding place.

"I say we throw it overboard!" The man's voice was heated. "It's a tool of the devil, mark my words."

The other man wasn't so sure.

"It could bring us bad luck. We of all people know not to offend the merfolk-"

Lyra grinned when she heard Ma Costa's voice, loud and authoritative, break through the argument.

"He's right, Alen! The merpeople've got to be respected. We can't throw it overboard like a piece of trash."

Lyra wished they would. It would make her job much easier. As it was-maybe she should take a chance.

Boldly, she stepped out of the shadows, Pan fluttering as a nervous sparrow to her shoulder.

"Hullo, Ma Costa."

The gyptian mother was caught by surprise, but she quickly overcame it. She stepped off the boat and onto the dock, catching Lyra up in her strong arms and giving her a sound box on the ear.

"Lyra Belacqua, what in the name of fishes are you doing out here?" Without waiting for an answer, she whisked Lyra inside the cabin, where everything was cozy and well lit by a fire in the hearth.

In between being fed and scolded, Lyra managed to explain-leaving out the parts about the chapel roof and sneaking into the Library. When she had finished, Ma Costa stood gazing at her thoughtfully. "Well, child, I suppose I'll give you the mer-girl's ornament. Merfolk don't usually speak to humans, you know." She went out onto the deck, and Lyra heard her haranguing someone before she returned, pressing something into Lyra's hand and busying herself at the hearth.

Lyra uncurled her fingers and looked at it. It was a silver figure of a mermaid about the length of her little finger, studded with gems and looped around with a chain to be worn as a necklace. The expression on her face was wild and strange. Lyra felt like she shouldn't really to look at it, so she fastened the chain around her neck where the mermaid could lie hidden under her shirt.

"Ma Costa, how'd you find it?"

Without turning around, she replied, "I can't say I know, child. The men brought it up in their nets four days ago."

Lyra thought that she ought to return to Nera. The mer-woman was probably worried by now.

"Ma Costa, I've got to go-but thanks for the food and all."

The gyptian mother turned around, concern lining her already careworn face. "Lyra, you've got adventures ahead of you. Be careful."

"I will." Lyra was out the cabin door in a flash and leapt onto the dock, landing with a satisfying wooden thud. She jumped down to the bank and pushed her way through the reeds to where Nera lay, her dark hair floating in the darker water. "Here it is!"

Nera raised her head and smiled. Lyra noticed with a shudder of creepy fascination that her teeth were slightly translucent.

"Thank you, Lyra! You are a gift to my people." Lyra undid the chain and fastened it on the mer-woman's graceful neck. "If you are ever in trouble on the waters of the world, drop this into the water." She undid a carved shell ornament from her finlike ear and gave it to Lyra, who looked at it with interest and then pocketed it. Nera's hand went up to touch her cheek.

"I wish you well, Lyra, and the goodwill of a mer-woman is not something to dismiss. I will come to your aid, should you ever need it."

With that, she turned and dove into the water with hardly a splash, leaving only ripples to mark that she had ever been there.

Lyra grinned to herself as she made her way up the bank. She was covered in mud, her skirt was torn in three places, and she was going to have an interesting time explaining all this to Roger.

On the whole, she'd never been so satisfied in her life.


End file.
